The Challenge
by Shipperwolf
Summary: Companionpiece to Much Needed Humor. Mixed POVs. Sara decided to take on Linc's dare, but gets more than she expected upon doing so. Rating may change!
1. Chapter 1

After a bit of demand I decided to continue 'Much Needed Humor'. Here's some more Linc/Sara silliness, but don't worry: M/S interaction will be soon!

I disclaim PB and its affiliates

Kisses . Plz R&R--Nik

* * *

His lips could not help but turn upward at Sara's reaction to his statement---a statement he himself could not believe he made.

But the moment had arisen, to break the tension that surrounded them and try, desperately, to lighten everyone's mood.

Especially hers.

After all she had been through, an overdose, near drowning, and then being re-united with the bastard that had initiated said drowning, Lincoln knew the woman sitting quietly in the room with him needed cheering up.

And, as always…his brand of humor got more of a shocked response than an amused one.

"You're kidding, right? Peek? Lincoln, we're not 13-year-olds here."

Her voice was soft despite the disbelief that lay behind it, and he knew it was because she did not want Michael to overhear them.

The small sounds of his younger brother turning on the tap--to shave he guessed-- was dull through the wall of the bathroom.

Lincoln cocked his head, amused, and could not help but go along with the ridiculous game he had just instigated.

"C'mon Sara, I know a woman who's doctored-up murderous cons couldn't possibly be timid."

He could practically hear her pride slip up into her throat. Sara was no little-miss-priss. She was not the "Oh, dear, I broke a nail!" stereotype. No, Lincoln knew Sara was not afraid to take on a challenge.

And that's exactly why he decided to give her one.

Sara's mouth formed a straight line for what had to be a few seconds, after which she smiled at him.

"Okay, you know what? I'm in a brave mood today. You don't think I'll open that door and look? Fine…"

And with those words he watched her rise from her sitting position on the bed, pad softly across the floor, and stand before the door of the bathroom.

He could not help but be slightly surprised--and impressed--when she looked back at him and reached for the knob.

But when she cracked the door open and bent forward to glance in, the widening of her eyes caused his to do the same.

And then, before he could process what was taking place, Lincoln watched as a tattooed arm reached through the small opening of the door, fingers latched onto Sara's wrist, and she was pulled in.

His dare had just taken a very…different turn.

And he knew then that Michael had been listening the entire time.

With a grin, Lincoln shook his head to himself, faced away from the vicinity of the bathroom, and turned on the television.

He pressed the volume button repeatedly until nothing could be heard but the channel-8 news.


	2. Chapter 2

A friend gave me wonderful ideas on where to take this fic, so i've incorporated several of her suggestions. Rating has changed for future content . Enjoy

plz R&R :D kisses

* * *

The water was steadily running in the sink, but Michael was nowhere near it.

Initially he had planned on shaving, suddenly more self-aware of his appearance since his moment with Sara on the train.

If another opportunity like that came again soon, he certainly didn't want prickly facial hair ruining a perfectly good kiss.

But the moment his hand reached for the razor, Sara's voice came as a mumble through the wall.

Only able to decipher a few words, his attention was caught by "peek".

Intrigued, Michael left the water on and moved to stand by the door.

His brother's reply came clearer, and suddenly everything became obvious.

Lincoln was playing his favorite game: truth or dare, without the truth.

Whether for his own amusement or for Sara's, Linc had dared Sara to pull a female 'peeping Tom' on him.

"…Fine." Was the only portion of her final answer that Michael could make out.

He looked down. A loosely-hanging towel was the only piece of material covering his still damp physique.

At this point, he had to make a choice, and had only mere moments to make it:

Allow her to open the door, take her quick sneak-peek, and pretend he was completely oblivious to all of it?

Or go on the offensive. Catch her by surprise. Turn the tables?

The knob clicked. He no longer had time to weigh his options.

So, Michael relied on instinct to decide for him.

As Sara cracked open the door and started to poke her head inside, his hand lunged forward of its own accord, gripped her wrist, and pulled.

Sara's confidence was completely destroyed as Michael's hand jerked her fiercely into the bathroom. The motion was quick and overwhelming, causing her vision to spin out of focus for just a moment.

The sound of the door being closed brought her to attention.

Michael was standing before her, clad in nothing but a white towel.

Eyes shifting downwards reflexively, she realized the towel barely covered the line of his waist.

The point at which his body-tattoo ended was visible.

Forcing herself to meet his eyes, she found him staring at her intensely.

Droplets of water from the shower clung to his short hair, some venturing down to run onto his cheek.

He hadn't even bothered drying off.

Was he aware of that?

"Is there something you needed Sara?" Michael spoke after several agonizingly silent moments, and in his voice she heard a satisfactory tone that told her he already knew the answer.

"Um…no, I just…"

Trailing off she found no valid excuse to give him.

Why else would she open the door, knowing he had just gotten out of the shower, except to look at him?

She was very acutely aware that he was moving around her slowly, placing himself in between her and the door, edging her farther away from it.

His lips curved up slightly into a small half-smirk.

"You opened the door without knocking. You're sure there's nothing you wanted?" Michael pressed on, his tone of voice shifting, becoming low, seductive.

Intrigue and nervousness mixed into one indescribable feeling at his words.

She suddenly cursed Lincoln for putting her up to this.

Although, deep down, she knew that was unfair.

She had chosen to accept his challenge.

And what a challenge it was becoming.

Suddenly remembering the man who sat watching television on the other side of the wall, Sara felt a need to end whatever it was that Michael was trying to initiate. Rather than answering the question that still hung in the hot air around them, she moved away from Michael's inviting form and turned for the door.

She didn't want to, of course, for more than one reason. She didn't want to hurt his pride, or make him feel like she was suddenly changing her mindset about him, but there was a time and place for them to further the exploration of their feelings.

The steamy bathroom, however inticing, was not that place.

Not with Lincoln right outside.

Her hand met the doorknob, and she did not dare look back to see the hurt expression on Michael's face.

A larger hand pressed the opening door back into place from behind.

The heat of Michael's breath was at her neck an instant later, and Sara felt his body painfully close to hers. He pulled her hand away from the knob, pressing closer to her back, making her head spin and her mind play tricks on her.

She could of sworn she'd heard him whisper something in her ear.

And it sounded very much like "I want you."


	3. Chapter 3

wootness, chap 3 is up! sry for the wait, but i will give hugs to all who read and review!!

* * *

Sara's mind went blank at the statement that had just been uttered to her.

Since when was Michael so bold?

'Since you were so bold as to open the bathroom door to look in on him,' a scolding voice whispered back to her.

She shouldn't have taken Lincoln seriously, shouldn't have been so daring. But she did, and she was, and now Michael had taken advantage of the situation.

He had the upper hand.

No.

She couldn't let him.

Now was NOT the time.

Not now.

Maybe…when they were alone?

She nodded to herself, trying to convince her conciousness of these facts.

Yes, maybe some other time.

Sara ignored the feeling of Michael's damp chest against her and looked back to face him.

"Michael…I'm sorry, but…" She trailed off and left the rest to his imagination, forcing her eyes away from his wonderfully seductive face and reaching again for the door.

Two rejections should have been enough to convince even the most stubborn of men that no means NO.

'Should have', being the key words in that phrase.

Michael reached forward at the same time as she, and gripped her arm before her hand reached the knob.

Her breath choked in her throat as he pulled her back into him.

"Sara….I want you." His whisper was clear and deep, and the hot breath that accompanied his reiteration sent a shiver to wrack her body, before warmth overcame her in the form of Michael's arms snaking around her waist.

She realized then that either he wasn't listening, or didn't care…or perhaps both.

He was getting her back for her devious attempt to peek at him, and she was powerless to stop him.

Wait…why did she WANT to?

Her body whispered to her in deep tones, questioning her desire to stop him.

But her reason had not yet been shot to hell and back.

She needed to know things first.

She needed to hear him say more than "Me too."

As his hands slid further around her waistline, Michael inhaled sharply, and seemed to be sizing her up for whatever it was he was planning on doing next.

She had to stop him beforehand.

Just to know, just to hear it…

"Michael, what are you doing?"

The hands that gripped her loosened.

His chin, which had been resting in the crook of her neck, rose up to bring his eyeline to hers.

"What do you mean?" The words sounded cloudy, as if he was sleepy or high, but his eyes were sharp and now held a slight spark of fear in them.

He was worried…worried that she was about to reject him?

Tell him she was doubting what she'd said on the train?

Probably all of the above.

Smiling she shook her head at him, and gestured to her waist.

"This. What is this? I've never known you to be so forward with me, and somehow I'm finding it hard to comprehend that that's all changed since our…encounter. Are you feeling okay?"

For a moment she expected him to look at her like she was insane, like he had never heard anything so ridiculous in his entire life, but instead, Michael shocked her for what had to be the fifth time in the past five minutes.

A small grin plastered onto his already adorable features, Michael turned her around in his arms, allowing enough room for her to duck underneath his grip and escape, but still touching her with a strong sense of desire.

"There's nothing wrong with me, Sara. After what happened between us earlier I've thought of nothing else but…" Michael's words ended in a inaudible whisper and his eyes narrowed towards her lips.

The look he was giving her set her body into a sudden reaction.

She remembered exactly what had taken place in that bathroom-- what could have taken place, had they not been interrupted.

It seemed he wanted to start from where thay had left off.

So it was no surprise to Sara when he lowered his lips to hers, and her world of control came crashing down around her.

The gentle slide of his mouth against her own melted her doubts into a puddle of nothingness. The familiar feeling of elation she had experienced on the train came rushing back to her, only this time, coupled with a deeper physical desire.

And if there had been any ways she could have stopped him left, what Michael whispered next destroyed them in an instant.

"I love you."

Sara's breath came searing hot in a small gasp against his face.

And with those three words Sara knew she was defeated.

Michael had sent her spiraling into a pool of heat that she had never felt before.

He wanted her, he'd said.

Her legs shifted and she moved forward to put a hand behind his head, pulling it to hers.

He would have her.

* * *

MWAHAHA! another cliffie. plz dont hurt and/or flame me! I just had to be mean...its in my nature . But its a nice kind of mean. That make any sense to anyone? Yeah...I didn't think so either. :D


	4. Chapter 4

MMK, well...i was looking at some of the stories i hadn't finished here on FF and realized that i had, in fact, finished this one...but had never posted the final two chapters. o.0

*ahem* so, if anyone remembers this fic and wanted to finish it, here it is lol!

*Content of this and final chapter are rated M*

* * *

Michael's heart rate skyrocketed.

Sara's hand had a firm grip on the back of his head, forcing his face to hers and inciting a kiss unlike any they'd had before.

His spontaneous decision to seduce her had worked all too well, and now he could reap the rewards of his daring move.

He loved her, he wanted her, and now he could show her just how much he meant both.

His own hands clutched her lean waist and gave him ample control of her body. Sliding his tongue across her lips he felt her shudder beneath his fingers, resulting in a tighter grip that moved lower to her hipbones.

He could tell subconsciously that they were moving back, away from the door. How they had not tripped over each other's feet he had no idea, but once he came to the realization that they were indeed moving, another lustful image came into mind.

The sink lay just behind Sara, and he began directing her towards it, all the while distracting her with rather sloppy and half-minded kisses.

She didn't seem to notice; her breath had grown heavy and her throat emitted a moan at another invasion of his tongue.

Lazily he drew her own between his teeth, capturing it and holding her to his will.

It was then her bottom bumped into the porcelain behind her.

He let her tongue go free as she drew in a quick gasp.

And then Michael stopped.

All was quiet for a mere few moments, but with the extreme amount of sexual tension clouding the air it felt like hours that they stood stock-still.

"Sara…" Her name flowed from his lips for the sheer love of it.

He then waited for her to analyze exactly what was happening- to come to grips with what he intended for them in this very moment.

It was simply how his own mind worked; he wanted to understand the facts before acting. He knew the facts himself. He wanted to take her in this very instant, and to hell with the brother that sat on the other side of wall.

Linc could always cover his head with a pillow.

Those were the facts.

And in the near thirty seconds they stood there staring into each other's half-lidded eyes, Sara apparently came to accept them.

She let out a thick sigh and nodded.

With strength he didn't even know he had- very probably given through a rush of adrenaline, Michael lifted Sara onto the edge of sink.

Hands flew to the buttons of her jeans, and his fingers shook with anticipation, nervousness, and a sudden onslaught of raw need.

Sara leaned back against the mirror behind her. The cool glass sent a chill down her spine, contradicting the extreme heat that seeped into her stomach, into her legs, all the way to her toes.

She felt dizzy.

Her jeans were being tugged down to her ankles, and she realized Michael wanted this to be as quick as possible, as not to keep Lincoln waiting in the next room in silent embarrassment for too very long.

Sara had to admit, she had seen their first time going quite differently.

She had pictured it slow, romantic…and…in a bed.

But now, with a stab of pure ache sending a trickle of wetness dripping down her leg, she truly could not care less.

All Sara knew now, was that she had not had sex in almost four years.

And Michael- skin damp, smelling of soap and man and desire- was slipping his hands up her thighs.

His eyes were half-lidded and about three shades darker than usual.

A low groan escaped his mouth as his fingers met a light patch of soft brown hair.

Sara all but tore the towel off of his hips.

Fingernails dug into his skin as she pulled his waist forward.

And absent-mindedly, Sara could hear channels being flipped fervently in the next room.


	5. Chapter 5

final chap! pretty hot n heavy so be prepared lol! hope yall enjoyed.

* * *

"Christ."

It was but a whisper, sharp and quick and barely heard as it escaped Sara's mouth, but it was enough to send him into a completely different world.

A world where no-one was getting shot at, no-one was chasing them….hell, no-one else even existed.

It was Michael, Sara, a sink and an intense burning warmth that enslaved him as he filled her.

His hands dipped underneath her hips, lifting her only slightly off the porcelain, just enough for him to gain leverage.

Leverage led to more heat, more friction, and-God-it was almost more than he could take.

Michael looked up as he pulled out slightly.

Sara was all but glowing, bent back against the mirror, head facing the ceiling, hair disheveled. Her hands shook as one left the grip it had on the sink to claw franticly at the back of his skull.

He felt a strange swell of pride then, and a primitive feeling crept its way into his very being.

He thrust forward again, eyes wide now and watching.

Sara bent her head toward him with a gasp, and he pressed harder, deeper into her as he leaned in to capture her lips and swallow her moan.

It was like a dream-as clichéd as it sounded-but it went so much deeper, into a dark and chaotic flurry of red and heat and love and carnality.

Yes….it was carnal; again, his intellectual brain went haywire in exchange for his more basic instincts.

A groan rumbled past his lips and somewhere within it was her name, twisted and slurred into an incoherent thought that neither of them heard or acknowledged. They were too busy pushing, pulling, gripping and grinding to do anything but sigh and gasp and express their passion through sound.

A thunk* had him looking at her again. He had dug in his blunt nails and her hips were like firm silk beneath them. Her head had flown back again, bumping into the mirror and giving Michael a surge of desperation to find and meet his peak.

In and out, slow, then fast, it was utter chaos, and amidst it, they cried and growled in their battle for satisfaction. The heat pooling into him was enough to drive him into insanity, and he absolutely loved it.

He loved her.

And he had-he just HAD to tell her again…now, before he lost his speech completely.

"Sara…Sara…."

"I know."

Too late.

She pushed her hips down to meet his upcoming thrust, and it was all over for him.

His voice was lost, his brain was on lockdown. His vision went red and white as he slipped in and out of her erratically, pushing himself into release.

"God, Michael!"

Sara's cry sounded far away, and yet so close, and the contractions of her burning inner walls had him biting his lip and bucking into her one last time.

Then, everything went silent. It was bright and hot and almost uncomfortably so, but still he smiled.

Michael leaned forward, into waiting arms, and they stayed as such until the blurry aftermath of their union had cleared.

Sara was the first to make a sound.

She sighed, content, calm, tired.

Then, he felt the refreshing coolness of her lips press into his forehead.

"Michael…"

He looked up lazily, a crooked grin forming at the exhausted but beautiful sound of her voice.

"Yes, dearest…"

Where he came up with THAT pet-name, he'd never know. But it felt good, and he was happy his brain was running at full capacity again.

"Your nails are starting to hurt a little now."

He looked down.

He hands still had a death-grip on her buttocks.

"Oops."

Pulling forward gently, he let her slide off the edge of the sink, and moved his hands to steady her as she regained balance.

He smiled again.

"Okay now?"

"Yeah."

They always did have a habit of small-talk.

Their mouths met a final time, slow and meticulous, meaningful and finalizing: I love you.

They didn't need to say it. It whispered in the very air around them.

A moment passed before reality kicked back in for them both.

Sara pulled the mess that was her clothing back together, and gave a light chuckle as she sauntered past her now-lover.

"Why don't you get dressed. I'm gonna see if Lincoln is hungry."

And with that, he was left to get cleaned up….again.

* * *

A little over half-an-hour had passed since she had disappeared into the bathroom, although, for Lincoln, the god-awful noise seemed to last half-a-day.

When the little vixen finally tiptoed back into the room, his glare was fierce and commanding.

"Sara…never, ever do ANYTHING I tell you to again. Especially if I DARE you to do it."


End file.
